


Incentive

by Tinderbox of Sanity (Sephielya_J_Maxwell)



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Food Kink, Humiliation, M/M, Power Dynamics, Power Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 18:32:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1438426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sephielya_J_Maxwell/pseuds/Tinderbox%20of%20Sanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wilson's officially had one of the worst days on the island. When Maxwell decided to pay him a visit, he expected the worst. However, the puppet master has an interesting proposition for him...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Incentive

Wilson had suffered through many trying days during his struggle in this strange wilderness. There was the weather to contend with, with limited resources next. It was almost impossible to stay in one place for very long because of those two things alone, not even mentioning the creatures here. Some were peaceful, some were most certainly not, and others could be docile in certain situations. All in all, nothing was for certain. But in all his trials here, the past twenty-four hours had possibly been his most trying to date. It all started with going on three days of near-constant rain. Wilson fought to keep the damp wood burning each night, desperately covering the remaining stockpile with what little he had. Straw mats, even his spare tent! And each day at dawn he’d tried to sleep a little, soaking wet and shivering in his tent while the pig men nearby rooted about. They meant well, but if left on their own, they’d eat everything he’d gathered.

 

Though not of their own fault, in a way it _was_ the pigs that had started of the series of tragedies that had befallen him. Lightning struck one of the pig’s houses, and the resulting fire had quickly spread to some of Wilson’s planted berry bushes. That had led the fire to his camp, and while the pigs ran around uselessly, they had trampled a part of his farm. The rain died down just as the flames dwindled, and he couldn’t even appreciate it. With a heavy, sodden heart, Wilson had spent most of that night packing his backpack with things that he would need for a supply run. As luck would have it, those dreaded shadow hands had come to try and snuff out his already low fire. Just before the sweet relief of dawn, he had heard the chittering of dozens of spider legs. It seemed that the fire had also reached the forest, something that he had overlooked previously. It opened a path straight from a spider den, and they were hungry.

 

Seizing his spear, Wilson had put up quite the fight. He shouted for the pig men, all safe and snug on their fancy homes, but as usual they had ignored him. He’d had no meat to offer them for their assistance because of the fire and their own crushing hooves, and so they were content to pretend that they weren’t home. The fire was dying fast, and it had begun to start raining again. When the tip of his spear broke off inside a spider’s head, he had no choice. Grabbing up a damp torch, he lit it in the pit before making a break for it. The spiders must have really been hungry, for they chased him much further than usual. By the time that they had given up and turned back, Wilson’s body was aching and his lungs could hardly pull in any more air. And he was in good shape, all things considered! As he was already far enough away for his intended purposes of gathering fresh resources, Wilson decided to continue his search. If only life had been so kind.

 

A rustling from the bushes had gotten his attention right quick, and he’d given a whine of dismay when a black snout peeked out from them. A howl followed, and two hounds burst forth from under the brush. Deprived of sleep, physically exhausted, and starving, Wilson could only run again. By some miracle, he had reached the herd of beefalo. However, he’d forgotten for a few seconds that his life was nothing but a sick and twisted joke to this world. The beefalo were in heat. The thunder of their hooves shook the ground, and he’d barely missed being trampled by a large male. Grazed by the beast’s shoulder, Wilson had landed face-first in the mud. The fall knocked loose his backpack, but he hadn’t had time to worry about what he’d lost. While the beefalo were distracted by the hounds, Wilson made his escape.

 

At long last, he reached his old camp. He trembled with fatigue as he set his things down, taking stock of his old tent. Half of it had collapsed, which wasn’t so surprising, but the inside of it was nice and dry. The ordeal of propping the tent back up was miserable work. He slipped more than a few times, and he was a bit clumsy with his tools. He managed to smash his thumb with the hammer, burn his palm with the wet rope, and hit his left elbow on a rock that was hidden by the mud. Shivering uncontrollably, Wilson feared the approaching chill of evening. He still had to build a fire somehow, and keep it going while hiding out in his tent. Stripping of his clothing was _anything_ but ideal, especially taking his current “luck” into consideration, but it was a matter of survival. His skin would dry much faster without them, and he had a fur roll on top of his bag that he could cover up with. Even wet, it held heat better. The old meat drying rack would have to do for a clothesline. The rain would wash the mud from his clothes, and eventually they would dry faster once the rain stopped. It sounded like a good plan. As he hung up his trousers, and then his drawers, the rain let up so suddenly that it actually startled him. Wilson actually gave a bitter chuckle through clenched teeth, trying not to let them chatter from the cold. Turning around to head towards his tent, he damn near jumped out of his skin when he was faced with the tall figure standing not five feet away from him.

 

“ _Max—_!” The scientist gasped in surprise, eyes widening. They narrowed in the next moment, fists clenched at his sides. All of his pent up anger bubbled over, and Wilson lashed out without thinking; verbally, of course. “I should have known. You don’t want to get any rain or mud onto your dapper suit, right? Did you come to gloat? Well, too bad! I’ve overcome every obstacle that you’ve thrown at me today, and I’m still in one piece!” He said proudly, as proud as he could be while standing naked in the mud, shivering in the evening’s cold air. Maxwell’s brows rose, and his eyes lowered pointedly.

 

“Yes, I can see that.” The demon replied with a cheek-splitting grin. Wilson’s cheeks went red-hot, and his shoulders pulled up as if in challenge. He couldn’t feel more vulnerable like this; completely nude, his skin ice cold, too tired to fight, and stared down by the fully clothed and irritatingly tall demon of a man who was responsible for it all.

 

“I don’t have time for this!” Wilson snapped, jaw so tense that his head was beginning to hurt. “I have to figure out a way to avoid my camp being struck by lightning the next time that you decide to play Zeus!”

 

“Did you just compare me to a god? I’m flattered.” Maxwell quipped. Wilson’s patience reached its end, and the man of logic did something impulsive. He dug his toes into the mud, kicking it up with all of his might. Perhaps Maxwell didn’t expect it, because he didn’t move a muscle as the mud splattered across his trousers. It only took one stride of those long legs to bring the demon towering over him, but Wilson didn’t so much as wince, not even when his wrist was grabbed by Maxwell’s gloved hand. “Say _pal,_ that was rather _rude,_ don’t you think?” The demon demanded, tugging Wilson a step closer.

 

“And so is making it rain for days on end, throwing lightning, sending spiders and hounds after me, and showing up with that smug grin!” The scientist shot back.

 

“Must every smile I make be one of admittance to guilt?” Maxwell asked with a scolding tone.

 

“Are you saying that you’re not responsible?” Wilson’s eyebrow rose. His discomfort was swiftly growing, being held so close while in this vulnerable state, but he refused to back down. He winced as his wrist was squeezed.

 

“I’m saying that this world is completely self-sustaining. The weather patterns, the seasons, and all the creatures in it have their own design, pal. I can’t be bothered to do each of these things that you’ve accused me of.”

 

“But you _could_.” The scientist pressed. Maxwell gave an irritated click of his tongue.

 

“Yes, I _could._ ”

 

“Then why should I believe that you didn’t?” Wilson asked, though his shoulders had begun to relax a little, seeing as no violence had yet to be done.

 

“Frankly, pal, I don’t give a damn _what_ you believe.” Maxwell muttered, releasing Wilson’s wrist. The scientist reached up to rub at it, noting how warm that the demon’s gloved hand had been against his chilled skin. “I actually came down here to _commend_ you, not that you’ll believe me. You’re learning, Higgsbury, but you’re getting nowhere fast.” The older man sighed, and a puff of shadow materialized in his right hand. Within seconds it became a lit cigar, and Wilson retreated back a step. When he wasn’t stopped, he headed over to his backpack.

 

“What do you mean I’m getting nowhere?” The exhausted scientist huffed, picking up his wet fur roll. It had a bit of mud on the outside, but the rain hadn’t penetrated the skin of it. It would be mostly dry, then, and good for heat. Maxwell’s silence made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and he held the bedroll in front of him as he turned back around. “Where am I supposed to go?”

 

“I wonder, pal.” The demon chuckled; smoke trailing from his lips as he exhaled slowly. And there was that grin again! Wilson wanted to punch it right off his face, but he knew that it wouldn’t help anything to start a fight right now. Grabbing his backpack as well, he passed the demon without a second glance, kneeling to straighten out the roll on the bottom of the tent.

 

“Unless you want something from me, why don’t you just leave me alone for today?” Wilson’s back felt itchy from being watched, and he swallowed hard, wiping his feet off on the grass before climbing inside. It was a large tent, from before he had thought to make them more mobile. This camp had burned because of a fire hound, and was his second experience with the lesson of not staying still for too long, nor taking a good location for granted. Sitting on his fur roll, he pulled half of it up to cover his lower body. He heard Maxwell’s footsteps on the damp ground, and he wasn’t at all surprised when the demon’s face appeared through the flaps of the tent.

 

“Can I come in?” Maxwell’s voice betrayed his amusement.

 

“If you really must.” Wilson grumbled, his mood only becoming sourer by the moment. As if it wasn’t enough that he had to ache with loneliness on most days, the only other person that he _did_ see was this bastard. As the demon crawled inside, Wilson tensed up again. “So, you _do_ want something.”

 

“Actually, I thought I’d give you something. A reward, you could say.” Maxwell turned his back to the scientist temporarily to remove his muddy shoes. Wilson was grateful for that small favor, but he wasn’t about to admit it. Turningback around to face the scientist, the demon drew in another drag from his cigar. Smoke assaulted Wilson’s face on the exhale, and he coughed, waving it away. But that single breath had been enough to taint the thin air of the tent, so it did no good. Just as he was about to protest about this ‘gift’ that Maxwell had mentioned, the older man reached back behind him. His left hand came back around, holding a silk satchel. Wilson’s brow rose curiously, wondering just what Maxwell could be giving him that required such a fancy bag. The demon chuckled in response to the expression that he was receiving, a mix of worry and awe. Sticking the cigar between his lips, he untied the drawstring with his right hand. Setting it out on the ground, the silk lowered away to reveal more than a dozen triangular fruits. This time his left hand rose to hold the cigar.

 

“ _Strawber_ ,” Wilson was interrupted by a humiliatingly loud rumble from his own stomach. Oh, that’s right. This was going on his second day without food. Still, he didn’t want to give in! Swallowing hard, wrapping one arm around his bare stomach, he glared at the man. “That’s not going to work on me. I still have come self respect!”

 

“Don’t you know,” Maxwell’s gloved fingers lifted one strawberry, bringing it to his own lips, “What I saw you leave back there when you had the run-in with the beefalo?” The strawberry pressed to the demon’s full lower lip, sliding along it slowly. Wilson’s eyes widened a little, remembering that some things had fallen from his pack. “That’s right,” Maxwell’s tongue slid out to lick the tip of the fruit, “You left your provisions.” There was a flash of white teeth as Maxwell bit into the strawberry, and Wilson’s mouth ran dry at the sound of how juicy that it was. Of the strange fruits on this island, he hadn’t seen strawberries. Unconsciously, Wilson leaned forward a little, licking his lips once. “Oh, so you want them?” Maxwell almost sounded surprised. He took the last bite, tossing the leafy green top out of the tent. With his cheeks burning hot, even when the rest of him was cold, Wilson’s voice was hesitant.

 

“What will it cost me?”

 

“I told you that it was a reward, didn’t I?” Maxwell reminded, lifting another ripe, fat, red strawberry. He held it out, only to jerk it back when the scientist reached for it. “Not so fast there, pal!”

 

“I knew it! What’s the catch?” Wilson muttered, eyes narrow.

 

“You can’t touch them with your hands. You can only take them from my hand.” Maxwell took another drag of the cigar, and Wilson swallowed.

 

“Deal. Now get that cigar out of the tent, I can’t breathe.” The younger man flinched from the frown he received. “Please.” He added tensely. Maxwell gave a grumble of his own, but he turned to the side, tossing the cigar out into the mud. Turning back around, he saw that Wilson was sitting on his knees, the fur roll still covering from the waist down. Smiling, Maxwell lifted the first strawberry.

 

“Open your mouth. Wider.” The demon ordered, and Wilson couldn’t do anything other than obey. He wouldn’t be able to eat tonight otherwise, and if he didn’t find something tomorrow, he would be in danger of losing his energy. “Just like that, doll.” The strawberry’s tip touched Wilson’s lower lip, sliding along it as Maxwell had done to his own moments earlier. “Don’t bite, not until I say.” The older man said with a raise of one eyebrow. Wilson whimpered, closing his eyes when the strawberry’s tip began to trace around the shape of his mouth. It was waxy, and he felt every little seed a bump of it. Once he reached the bottom lip again, the demon pushed it inside slightly, just enough to rest on Wilson’s teeth. “Alright.”

 

Maxwell was forced to jerk his hand away from the strawberry when Wilson came forward with his bite. He could have been caught by it! He’d felt the scientist’s teeth brush the tips of his fingers! Wilson seemed guiltless for his actions, chewing that strawberry as quickly as he could, and opening his blue eyes as he swallowed. Slowly, he parted his lips once more. Maxwell’s brows rose, glancing down to where Wilson’s fingers fisted into the fur in his lap. “Like a little smallbird begging to be fed.” Maxwell teased, lifting the next strawberry. Wilson barely breathed as the berry slid into his mouth. “ _Gently._ ” The demon coaxed. The scientist’s teeth came down slowly this time, slicing into the berry and sending a bit of juice dripping down his chin. “Hands down.” Maxwell admonished when Wilson tried to lift his hand to wipe it away. Instead, the demon leaned forward.

 

Wilson merely grunted in protest when he came so close, flinching as Maxwell’s tongue touched his chin. That wet, warm muscle slid up to the corner of his mouth, leaving behind a wet line of saliva. But the demon reached up to wipe that away with the thumb of his glove, and Wilson felt oddly grateful. The next strawberry was brought to his parted lips, only the end of it sliding in again. “Now suck.” Maxwell’s voice had grown lower, with an unmistakable hint of lust. Wilson couldn’t help but feel a little violated, being fed in such a vulgar manner. But, it was this or go hungry. Closing his lips around that delicious fruit, he sucked gently, his tongue pressing against it just for the taste. “Bite.” Wilson wasted no time in following that order, biting the strawberry in half. More carefully, he bit the end of it off, his teeth sliding against the tip of those gloves slowly this time. He would have eaten the ends of them too, but Maxwell kept throwing them out!

 

One by one the berries went into that hungry, waiting mouth. Each time they teased him first, of course. A trace of his lips, the order to lick or suck, juice dripping down from his chin, swallowing heavily each time. All in all, it was probably the least humiliating way that he’d ever gotten anything from Maxwell. On the fifth strawberry, Maxwell held it about a centimeter from Wilson’s waiting mouth. “Come for it.” He taunted, prompting Wilson to frown. He leaned in readily however, only to find that the strawberry was being pulled back slowly. If he bit hard again, he might make the demon angry, and so he could only follow it by leaning further forward. Once the strawberry was about an inch from Maxwell’s own mouth, the demon reached up with his left hand to capture Wilson’s chin. Lowering the strawberry and bending down, he pressed his lips against the scientist’s juice-dampened ones. As Wilson’s lips were already parted, it made it easy to slip his tongue inside. The younger man gave an unintentional groan into that kiss, shuddering as he returned it somewhat reluctantly. It had taken Maxwell forever to work his way up to kissing the scientist on the mouth, and the first time he had, he’d been bitten! Wilson knew better now, even if he wished that Maxwell had never tried at all. Kissing was nice. It was usually the kindest thing that was done to him, making it all the more appealing to Wilson.

 

Gasping for breath once Maxwell finally relented that kiss, he watched in dismay as the demon lifted the strawberry to take the bite for himself. A small whine escaped from the back of Wilson’s throat, but Maxwell only grinned, still holding the scientist’s chin. Leaning down again, he passed the strawberry between their lips, pushing it into Wilson’s mouth with his tongue. The scientist’s brows furrowed, but he accepted the strawberry. Allowed to chew it, he swallowed it down like the others, his Adam’s apple bobbing with a heavy gulp. “Say pal, you’re quite obedient when you’re motivated by your stomach.” Maxwell observed, picking up another strawberry. He twirled it in his fingers, noting how Wilson’s eyes followed it, ignoring his taunt. It was better than looking into the demon’s smug face, after all. Curiously, Maxwell took another bite. This time he only leaned in close, parting his lips and releasing Wilson’s chin. The scientist didn’t waste any time, sealing their mouths as his tongue searched out that bite, claiming it as his own before pulling back. “ _Just_ like a smallbird!” Maxwell laughed, and Wilson recoiled. His right hand lifted half-way to his mouth before he remembered the rule, lowering it again with a glare as he chewed ruefully. “I think that’s enough, don’t you?”

 

“ _Wh-at_?” Wilson nearly choked as he swallowed, eyes widening a little. “Th-that’s barely anything! It’s been, well you know how long it’s been!” He reached out to grasp Maxwell’s wrist as the older man began to close the silk satchel. “Six strawberries aren’t going to get me through the day tomorrow, even if I’m lucky and find something!”

 

“That’s _your_ problem, doll.” Maxwell said as he pulled the drawstring, closing the bag.

 

“ _Wait._ ” Wilson nearly snapped, his irritation coming back in his moment of desperation. “What do you want? Just tell me like usual, and then give me the strawberries.” He insisted. Maxwell raised one eyebrow, thinking his over. Holding the bag by its strings in his left hand, the demon’s right one lifted to rest his fingers under Wilson’s chin. Maxwell’s thumb swept across that slightly sticky lower lip, and Wilson’s tongue slipped forth to flick over the end of it. Though his face burned with humiliation, the scientist took it into his mouth, giving it a firm suck. The demon seemed more than pleased with this, if his smug grin was any sign. Maxwell slid his thumb under Wilson’s tongue, hooking his thumb behind Wilson’s lower teeth, the fingers under the scientist’s chin squeezing, effectively seizing him by the jaw like a caught fish.

 

“Tomorrow, find something interesting. I don’t care how far you have to go, or what you have to do in order to find it. If you promise to do that, I’ll let you have these strawberries. If it’s good enough, I’ll even bring you another reward. Perhaps something more meaty next time.” Maxwell mused, and Wilson’s mouth nearly watered at the thought. If the demon could bring him strawberries, something which he hadn’t found here in this world, what else could he give him? Once his jaw was released, Wilson nodded his head. He held out his hands to receive the heavy bag of strawberries as agreed, his stomach aching with the need to eat more of them.

 

“I agree.” The scientist said quickly. Maxwell smiled, patting his cheek. He didn’t react when Wilson pulled away from that demeaning touch, giving another laugh instead. Turning his back, Maxwell slipped on his shoes before he slipped out of the tent. Wilson already had the bag open, popping the first strawberry into his mouth, leafy top and all! There didn’t need to be any goodbyes, he’d see the demon soon enough. Tomorrow, by the sound of it. Wilson had no idea what he was supposed to find that was so ‘interesting’, but he would search! Besides, it sounded intriguing. Was there something he had missed about the island? He’d jump at the chance that he could find something scientific, so it wasn’t hard to convince him. But food was a very, very nice incentive as well, he had to admit.


End file.
